Don’t make assumptions
DON’T MAKE ASSUMPTIONS
Brynn
The cabin Wyatt took us to was right on Lake Tahoe, and even though it was a relatively small A-frame, it was clearly remodeled with modern amenities and high-tech security.
There was an outdoor sauna and hot tub set off to the right, and the entire front of the cabin was a wall of windows that had the same mirrored protective film on the outside that I had on the windows in my house so no one could see inside, but without obstructing the views.
We walked inside and Wyatt dropped our bags next to the door and propped his large hands on his trim hips. He looked around the space with such focus it was as if he was cataloging every inch. A smile tugged at the corner of my lips as I followed his lead.
The wall of windows directly in front of us faced out to the pristine blue lake.
It was so breathtaking, I almost didn’t want to tear my gaze away, but the rest of the cabin called to my curiosity.
To the right of the windows was a short bookshelf, probably because of the steep tilt of the roof since I doubted much else would fit there.
Centered on the right wall was a stone fireplace with a stack of wood already waiting for us.
I couldn’t remember the last time I saw a fireplace that took wood and wasn’t turned on with the push of a button.
There were stairs to the right of the fireplace that went up to a loft room.
Even from down here, I could tell there was only one bed.
Unless there was an extension somewhere, it looked like the sleeping situation would be interesting.
Beneath the loft was the kitchen, and tucked to the side was the bathroom.
A plush, expensive-looking brown couch sat along the wall opposite the fireplace.
It looked like the perfect place to curl up with a book and read or stare out at the lake.
Wyatt hummed low in his throat, a frown on his handsome face.
He bent down to pick up my bags and proceeded to walk up the stairs to the loft.
“You can have the bed. I’ll sleep on the couch,” he called down, although in the small space, he probably could’ve whispered and I would’ve heard him clearly.
It was becoming clear that there would be very little privacy between us for as long as we were here.
I wondered how long it would take before my resolve to remain professional with Wyatt flew right out the window.
I’d seen the way he looked at me when he’d held me against his body after that fan rushed me, and it wasn’t the way any other bodyguard had.
It was full of hunger and desire, but not with the added gleam of wondering what I could do for him like men I’d dated in the past. The reason it had been easy to be single for so long was because most men from my previous relationship had used me as a stepping stone for their own fame or careers.
But not Wyatt.
I suspected he was fighting the same intense pull I was. Now we would be trapped in this small cabin in the woods for the next two weeks, and I wasn’t sure I could ignore my attraction to him for that long.
He came back down the stairs and looked around again, like he was at a loss for what to do now.
His dark brown eyes landed on me, and I realized it was the first time he’d looked me in the eye since we got here. “Are you hungry?”
For you? Yes.
“Not really.” I hadn’t had much of an appetite since New York, something he’d noticed because he was constantly asking me if I was hungry or putting snacks—my favorites, even though I’d never told him what my favorites were—in front of me.
“Are you sure? I had the fridge and cabinets stocked before we got here.”
“I’m sure. Thank you though.”
I paused. Was this the first time I’d thanked him?
“I’ll grab us waters at least,” he said, heading to the kitchen.
I stepped forward and grabbed his arm, stopping him in his tracks.
“Thank you, Wyatt. For all you’ve done over the last several weeks.
I haven’t said it enough, but I appreciate it.
I appreciate you.” My voice had gotten lower by the time I finished talking, and I was sure he could see my heart in my eyes the way I was looking at him.
“Of course. It’s my job,” he said, his voice lower than normal, but his words were enough of a jolt that I instantly dropped my hand and nodded like he hadn’t just hurt my feelings.
It was the reminder I needed. It was the reminder he shouldn’t have had to give in the first place. Again.
This was just a job to him. I was just a job.
Maybe that’s why he didn’t look at me like other guys, and not for the reasons I’d created in my head. Maybe what I’d thought was heat was just…something else. Obviously something professional.
While he went into the kitchen to get us water bottles, I faced the windows, staring out at the lake. It was so smooth and peaceful. Serene.
When was the last time I took the time to notice nature? To feel true peace? To admire the natural beauty in the world around me?
Maybe I could use these next two weeks to commune with nature—or whatever people called it—instead of worrying about my stupid, clearly unrequited feelings for Wyatt.
Maybe I could come up with some new songs.
It’s what I should be doing anyway—what I usually did when the world around me felt out of my control.
Writing new songs always helped calm the chaos.
Putting everything I was feeling on paper, creating a melody for it, helped me work through it all.
Maybe it was time to write about not only my unrequited feelings for Wyatt, but my true feelings about my ex, the media, my stalker.
All the ways people constantly tried to make me feel like I wasn’t good enough or was too much instead of realizing I was a human being with my own complex emotions about situations.
Yeah, that’s what I’d do, my heart lifting slightly as a sense of purpose filled me. I’d focus on my job and leave Wyatt alone to do his.
And then my skin prickled with awareness, and heat at my back alerted me to Wyatt’s body close to mine. His arm entered my field of vision, a water bottle firmly in his grasp that he offered to me. I took it, careful not to touch the rough fingers I’d fantasized about too many times.
“Thanks,” I murmured.
He hummed, but didn’t say anything else. The silence wrapped around us as we both stood there staring out at the turquoise lake.
I wasn’t sure how much time passed before his low voice broke the silence. “You’re not just a job. I…I care about your safety and well-being. More than I probably should.”
My heart was in my throat, thumping so wildly I couldn’t get words out even if I tried. But I couldn’t stop the small smile that tugged on my lips as we continued to stand there, sipping our waters and letting the tension between us grow.